Jigsaw Piece
by TheOneRealThing
Summary: - missing moment from FITA. Corrine stews over her past, her mistakes and her present as she surrenders to her father's punishment.


From the clickety-clack of our shoes scuffing along the long corridor that traced backdown stairs, I could feel Mother's eyes shamelessly on my back. Perhaps of disgust rather than shame. I could hear her clear her throat and then, her venomous voice that never once spoke kind to me.

"A housewife, then? Ha! Oh, what nonsense, Corrine! Hardly could you ever be bothered picking up your own plate!" Her words cut knives that seemed to hurt worse than before. Her obscure words tormenting me and shrinking me to a defenceless little girl. Her dagger always ready to penetrate where I was most weak. But that was before, in the past. I had an obscene amount of money to inherit, and to get my children out of that godforsaken stuffy room as quickly as possible! As a mother, as a woman, I felt deeply ghastly leaving my children to be carelessly kept and unkindly treated in a dim place, a small tiny weary place that my babies couldn't even run around in. It was my fault, mine! My own, never anyone else's. My mother pushed me as we journeyed back downstairs, hurrying me along as my head hung, my long golden waves like a daffodil pouch around my head, my hands nervously working as I stewed over my most inner-demons.

"_Disgusting. Vile. Lolita. CHILD." _I wept and wept weakly as my sobs came out wracking. The look on my father's face. His utter pain and betrayal pin-pointing me like a magnet, like our colourful alphabetical collection that we used on our kitchen fridge in Pennsylvania. How I wished to have been brave, and more fierce. Cowardly, I sunk my head even lower as I dared to not even look my father straight in the eyes. Afraid for what I might see. My mother snickered at the side as I heard a rummaging and a loud whack! _THE WHIP! _Finally, looking up, I met my father's eyes painfully as I bit down on my lip. My fingers with a mind of their own as my hands twirled, twirled, twirled! Never, in all my eighteen years of living in Foxworth Hall, had I ever been given reason for my father to beat his whip down on me. Never me! I was his favourite. His only daughter, his only heiress to the grande fortune of this mansion. With a muffled cry, I obeyed their rules, stripping down to the waist as I heard the crackle squeak of the leather before it bared down like a thousand lashes on my bare back, splitting the flesh as I screamed out! Could my children hear me?! I didn't want them to. Didn't want them to know I was suffering. _No one else to blame._

"Sinful! SINNER! I always knew you would come running or crawling back any time soon. Any time that the leech of that man you called your uncle wouldn't be able to see through your happy family life! How dare you treat me this way. You forbade me! Now, my dearest! You will pay the ultimate price!" On and on my father chanted wearily, his words no longer fierce and powerful, but powerless and old. Stale. Something he could never use against me again. Both my mother and father pretended I was still eighteen, under their thumb and nothing but a little girl. He continued to speak badly of my husband, talk about how evil and wrong we both were. Sighing under my breath, I choked on sobs as his whip smacked my back even harder!

One lash came down harder than the other, all for each years I had loved and been with Christopher. My mind reeled as I thought of him. Poor Christopher, what a fool he had been. For I had loved him but never enough, I had never intended to let it get this far. Advantage. Yes, my advantage and intention had been to use Christopher so that I could escape my father's evil clutches, and this family's haunted ghosts. I was so permitted and given strict rules all of my young life, never allowed to do the things I pleased that Christopher had come at such a great time, just at the peak of my womanhood when I was dying for affection and tranquility. Someone to help me out! My thoughts suddenly came to a halt as my father mentioned children. I looked up, my eyes wide as he murmured something. Then, he looked at me with such horror in his eyes I could've sworn he would _kill_ me here and now!

"I cursed each and every year the two of you were fornicating." He used the word in such a sickening manner that it made my stomach churn. "That, both of you would never bear children. Corrine! I loved you enough to wish this! Wish that my daughter, the only person I ever truly loved and cared for.." Mother flinched, gaping at me with piercing eyes. "Would _NEVER_ go through the shame and embarassment of giving birth to the devil! My sweet, I wished that you would miscarry each and every time! And from the look of your different shapely body, I confirm my presumptions!" I seemed to choke even more as he spoke of this. Mother had never told him about the children. About the attic. He never even suspected. Just of my different body. My conversion from an eighteen-year-old woman to a thirty-year-old widow. I was pushed to Father's beside as his hands roamed and inspected my body. My stomach convulsing as I held my breath. Father had his way with me years ago. The touch of his hands, his old wrinkly and tired hands still repulsed me.

"Be gone with her! Out of my sight! I need to think rationally." Father commanded as Mother tugged my arms, throwing me my blouse as I guility slipped it back on, buttoning it up, I could feel the slickness of fresh blood seeping from my wounds. Tears threatened to persist more as they slid down my cheeks freely. My head bowed as I was once again defeated. It had become apparent that I only thought of myself, my pain, my past. But time and time again, I was reminded of why I returned. Not to have a stable roof over my head, and for my children to enjoy the exhaltation of all money could buy-but for myself, to enjoy what was once mine. In my naivety, my stupidy, I didn't think over what I'd be exactly giving up. Riches, and yachts, and parties, and wealthy suitors! Resulting in becoming a surburban housewife in the 1950s. A laughing stock from anyone who knew me in Virginia. My father would disinherit me yet again if he ever knew the truth. Of my evil incident with Christopher, my unnatural and unholy mistake! I had now or never to enjoy and endure what I once gave up reluctantly. To regain my youth and my pride! For, I was once and always would be, Corrine Foxworth II. I was an heiress, I had millions to gain. Somehow, if my father died anytime soon, I could wipe away my sins, clear my conscious and start over. Mother had stormed out as I was left alone in my bedroom, my wing that had started all of this. For once, I felt horrified with myself. Was I wicked and evil for doing this? Gazing up from my upholstery bed, I sunk into the mattress further as I thought of my twins, and my Christopher and Cathy - whether they survived my plan or not, was the question. They'd have to be patient. With no surprise in myself, I no longer cared. I was no longer the sweet, goody-goody wifey that sat home all day every day living by routine- but bold, daring and adventerous Corrine Foxworth II! I had my way dozens of times, this one should never be any different.

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><p><em>AN: OK. A new drabble. To me, Corrine always seemed to be mysterious and from GOS's mistakes and errors, I just decided that __fan fiction should be much less the same. I don't know where I'm going with this but in my head, it keeps Corrine with an open mind and hopefully this chapter speaks for itself. In my opinion, Corrine never had any other intention than to indulge in what was once hers to enjoy. She wanted her title back, and her kids weren't getting in the way of that. If she loved them enough like she proclaimed, never would she have put them in the attic by day one, she would've worked hard to get herself a job and encourage Chris to get one too. 1950s were harder times, yes. But, it was plausible. Her determination was there, but the Dolls weren't her first priority. Also, might add in this messy end note that I do believe Malcolm had been inappropriate with his daughter in the past, and therefore, why he's such a crazy jealous psycho. Hey, he raped and impregnated his stepmother! Technically, Corrine's his half-sister. So you never know ;) This is just something that took my mind up today.. let me know what you all think. :)_


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